Kiss From a Rose
by mothamaeghan
Summary: My names Dave Karofsky, and two weeks ago I killed myself. But apparently I can't even do that right. Possible Kurtofsky, rated for language and vague sexual references. *On likely permeant hiatus*
1. Prologue

**Hey all, **

**This is my new story, basically written because of guilt for discontinuing Iloved you, I still do. **

**This is Kurtofsky, and it will (probably) be entirely from Dave's perspective. **

**Warnings - Swearing, suicide, angst, unrequited love, character death, vague sexual references. **

** This chapter is literally _just _sort of a "what happened previously" chapter. **

**I own nothing. **

**Enjoy!**

My names Dave Karofsky, and two weeks ago I killed myself. But apparently I can't even do that right.

Actually, now I'm getting ahead of myself. I should probably go back a while.

I had a pretty good life. But when I was fourteen I met someone named Kurt Hummel, and my world went to hell.

Now, I'm not saying I blame my problems on Kurt. I don't. In fact, we were sort of friends before I off-ed myself. Not close friends, but we were decent to each other. But when I was 14 years old, Kurt Hummel started at William McKinley High School with me, the only high school in the Cow Town that is Lima, Ohio, and the moment I saw him my mind was replaced by mush and I lost all rational perceptions of reality. To put it in simpler terms, when I saw Kurt Hummel, that was the first moment I realised I'm gay.

He was a twink, or at least, my friends called him that, and he was perfect. Still is. He was tall and slim and pale as fucking porcelain and had these really colourful clothes and perfect hair that looked really soft and a cute ass and… well I could go on about what Kurt looks like for the next 4 years of my after life and I probably wouldn't be able to get through all my opinions of him. But the moment I saw him, there was no turning back.

Three years later I was shoving the perfect boy into lockers and throwing slushies in his friends' faces. As you probably just worked out, I didn't _exactly _come to grips with my sexuality. I didn't enjoy it, but I was an idiot. I cared a lot more about my rep at WMHS then I did about being myself and at the time if that meant Kurt I was willing. I kinda want to go back in time and slap that me, tell him to get his act together and apologise, so that _maybe _we might have had a chance with Kurt.

Then comes both the best and the worst thing that ever happened to me in my 18 years of existence. I kissed Kurt Hummel. Now, it was hardly what I had hoped for. In my mind I had planned it out perfectly. I would apologise, and it would be really heartfelt and dramatic, the sort of stuff Kurt likes, and he would agree to go out on a date and there would be roses and dinner and everything he deserves. And at the end I'd kiss him. It would be perfect.

Unfortunately, god must have hated me, because it happened nothing like that.

One day I was in the hallway and so was he, and he had his phone in his hand. He was smiling like what was on the phone had made his whole day. I don't know why, but it pissed me off. A lot. I had assumed that it was his boyfriend, and what can I say? I got possessive. So I slapped the phone from his hand and shoved him into a locker. Usually it would just end there; he would glare at me and then walk off in a huff. But that day, I dunno, he was really angry, and he chased me. He followed me into the boy's locker room, yelled at me for a few minutes. I yelled back, playing the part of homophobic bully almost too well.

Anyway, one thing led to another and I ended up crashing my lips to his. It was awesome, to me at least. It wasn't sweet or nice like in my mind, but I was overtaken with emotion and he was so soft and it was perfect, even if it wasn't what I had planned. Because it was Kurt. Kurt Hummel. I was kissing Kurt Hummel. I cradled his head in my hands like he was porcelain, because he needed to be taken care of. But as I pulled back from his face I couldn't see the look of horror and shock, not at first. So I leaned in for another kiss.

And he pushed me away. At first I was kind of pissed. What other action was Kurt going to get in that cow town, he should be jumping at the chance to kiss a jock.

That's when reality came crashing down. I saw the look of terror on his face, that look that said _you disgust me. _But why shouldn't he have looked like that? I mean, I was disgusting. Not because I'm gay, I came to terms with that and frankly, if that was the reason Kurt would be disgusting too. No, because I forced it on him like a no good perv in a bar. Kurt deserved so much more.

So I ran.

Now, over the few months after that I somehow managed to threaten to Kurt's life (long story) and he transferred to some preppy school. To make matters worse, while he was there, for too fucking long in my opinion, he got a boyfriend. An actual fucking boyfriend. And his boyfriend was perfect. Still is. Gorgeous and in Glee Club, just like Kurt, and he acted was just so dapper, everything Kurt wanted. Everything Kurt deserved. Though I hated the little fucker, I couldn't bring myself to hate what he and Kurt had. Because the few times I saw them, Kurt looked so fucking happy. I couldn't hate anyone who made Kurt smile like that.

While Kurt was wrong I was sort of forced to acknowledge my attraction to other men. I usually would just stare at Kurt and that would be that, but while he was gone I caught myself checking out Mike Chang's abs in the locker room, and Sam Evan's ass in the hallways. Sure the attraction was never as strong as it was to Kurt, but I had been forced to more than once carry my bag in front of my crown jewels.

But I got Kurt to come back. I apologised, and I stopped bullying people, and he came back to McKinley. I learnt to accept myself and my feelings for Kurt. I won Junior Prom King 2011, I became striker for the hockey team in senior year, and my friends accepted the no bullying policy. My life was pretty sweet. For the first time since I started High School, I was happy with who I was and what my life was like.

Then Blaine Anderson, Kurt's prep school boyfriend, decided he couldn't survive at the prep school without Kurt and followed him to McKinley. Kurt's boyfriend started attending my fucking school. That was the one advantage I had had over him, the one place I could see Kurt without him being distracted by his boyfriend. It irritated me, but Kurt seemed happy. So I was happy.

Then one day I saw Kurt looking at me in the cafeteria, and the look in his eyes was very familiar, hell, I saw it on my face every time I looked in the mirror. It was longing. Lust even. I had quickly spun around to check if there was someone behind me he could be looking at, but there wasn't. I gave a little wave and he looked away with a blush, as if he hadn't noticed he had been staring in the first place. It was quite adorable actually.

Now, it may sound weird, but that was the moment I decided to kill myself.

I had been an 18 year old jock in the closet in a small cow town in Ohio; of course I had considered it before. But I had always thought of that as the coward's way out. And if anything, David Karofsky was not a coward. So I had gone to therapists and called help lines and gone online, and I had always decided against suicide. And I did love my family and friends, and I didn't want to give them that grief.

But Kurt was what changed everything. He had always been the final decider in my life.

You probably think that when Kurt looked at me in longing I would have been overtaken by joy and happiness, because I might have had a chance. But I wasn't. I mean, obviously there was a small part of my mind that thought this was great, that I had a shot I mean, but there was also the part of my mind that loved Kurt more than that. The part that made me deal with Blaine, that made me smile when he smiled, even if he wasn't smiling at me.

Now, being the creepy stalker that I was in my life, I knew he was planning on going to New York with Blaine for college. I knew he wanted to go and then marry Blaine (legally) and adopt little babies and go on Broadway and I wanted nothing more than for him to have that. I was a Lima Loser. That's what we called guys or girls who never made it out of Lima. That would be me. I would get stuck teaching high school gym or something and would probably stay in the closet and marry a woman, and Kurt would leave and be a star. That was how life was supposed to happen.

But if he liked me then that wouldn't happen. He wouldn't end up happy. I knew that. I couldn't go to New York or anything, so if we were together we would either break up before college or he would stay and resent me for life. If we broke up he wouldn't have Blaine in NY and I wanted him to have a perfect boyfriend to go to college with and spend a lifetime with. Someone who had the same dreams and who knew what he talked about when he talked about fashion and musicals and who would respect his boundaries. That wasn't me. That was Blaine.

So, all in all, that's why I killed myself. I did it to make Kurt happy. I wanted him happy. I wanted him to have the future he had dreamed. And I didn't want my presence to distract him from his relationship with Blaine.

Now, that was my life up until my suicide.

Killing myself was, in my _alive _opinion, the smartest thing I had ever done.

**Actual suicide scene will come in the next chapter, because it is quite detailed and will take me a while to write. **

**It's a lot less angsty then I intended, I don't know if that's a good thing or not. **

**Please review if you liked it, or if you saw any mistakes, or if in general you have anything to say to me. I allow anon reviews, but if you have an account I will reply :)**

**Lots of Love,  
>Mae <strong>


	2. Notes

**Hi guys,**

**This is very possibly the oddest thing I've ever written. You have no idea how weird it is to write a non-depressed suicide. **

**Okay, I changed (in the first chapter) the amount of time from Dave's death, because I want his funeral to be in real time, not a memory, and no one spends a month planning an 18 year olds funeral. **

**I've decided to do songs for each chapter, even though I've never done it before. This chapter is "Almost Lover" by A Fine Frenzy. The lyrics aren't **_**exactly **_**what I want, but I listened to it while I wrote this chapter, and it was kind of a tear jerker so *shrug*. **

**I own nothing.**

My suicide was amazing. I don't know any other way to put it. I mean, obviously it was morbid and depressing and would probably make the papers about how fucking dreary it was, but it was pretty amazing. I'm not a drama queen like Kurt or anything, but I wanted my last thing on Earth (or what I _thought _would be my last thing on Earth) to be important, you know, memorable.

There were a few things I had to keep in mind.

No blood. Mom's really squeamish. That ruled out cutting and guns.

My parents had to be out. Which meant it had to be on one of their bi-monthly date night.

Who to leave notes to.

In the end I decided on purposely over dosing on Nembutal. It's this amazing sleeping pill that can knock you out perfectly for 8 hours, no dreams no nothing. I used to take it when I was younger and was too plagued by dreams of Kurt to ever get a full night's sleep. However, if you took enough, you would die. It was pretty good too. It worked like the pill, took a few minutes to settle and you would seem to die in your sleep. And it was just what I wanted. Peaceful and memorable.

I wrote three notes. One to my parents, one to Azimio and one to Kurt. I don't think I've mentioned Az to you, so I will now. He is, or you know, was, my best friend. He was on the football team with me and made me a lot cooler than I was before we were friends. He introduced me to things like alcohol and porn, and though in hindsight that probably wasn't a great thing, I loved him like a brother. He never knew I was gay, not when I was alive anyway, but I don't think he would have had _that _much of an issue with it. So, I felt I owed him a letter. And I needed to ask him something so…

I guess I should tell you what I wrote.

I wrote to Az first. Mainly because it was the only one I didn't think I would've cried at.

_Dear Az,_

_Wow, that sounded weird. Dear. I'll start again. _

'_Sup Az (that's better). _

_I know you probably didn't see this coming. I didn't really either. But I know you and I know you like doing the Hero thing and would have wanted to help me, but you wouldn't have been able to. Dude, I'm gay. Now, that's not the exact reason I did this, but I really hope you don't hate me. Even though I'll be dead when you read this, I really hope you don't. Because I love you. Not like that, don't worry, I like my guys smaller than you. But you know, you're my brother. I would have been the biggest nerd and loser all through high school if it hadn't been for you. So, thanks for that. _

_Okay, I'm going to ask you for something. I don't think you're going to like it very much, but you have to do it. I mean, we're bros, and I'm pretty sure bros have to do their bro's last requests. _

_I want you to take care of Kurt. You know, Kurt Hummel. I know you don't like him or nothing, but please man, he is, well, he was everything to me. You don't have to become his new best friend or anything, just look out for him. Keep the guys from locker checking him or dumpster tossing him? Oh, and if his boyfriend ever hurts him I want you to round up the jocks in Glee (especially Hudson) and kick that douche bag's ass. _

_Dave _

Yeah, I asked him to protect Kurt. I needed him to be looked after, you know, when I was gone. And Az was a huge intimidating black guy, he could scare away any guy who tried to fuck with Kurt. The only person he didn't intimidate was me and that was hardly going to matter.

Oh, and you know how I said I wasn't going to cry while writing that one, I did. I couldn't help it. I knew I was going to miss him a shit load.

My parents came next. Looking back I realise it was a little weird to save Kurt's letter till last. My parents probably should've meant more to me than him… but Kurt fucked with my mind and my emotion. What can you do?

_Dear Mom and Dad,_

_I'm sorry. I know you're probably mad, so, I'm sorry. It was not your fault. Not at all. There was no way you could have prevented this. I'm gay, but I'm not depressed or anything. I did it for someone else and I know you probably think that's not a good reason, but I know this is what's best in the long run. _

_I love you guys. So much. When I was alive I didn't say that enough, but I do. You guys were the best parents any one could ever ask for. You never stopped supporting me, even when I got kicked out of school and when the bullying happened and you have no idea how much I love you and how grateful I am for all of that. If it wasn't for you I know that the moment I figured out I was gay this would have happened. _

_I'm guessing that you guys are going to give me a funeral, so, I want you to invite my friends from the team and… I want you to invite Kurt Hummel and his family. I really only want Kurt there, but I think he'll be better with them there. And I want to be buried. I've always lived here and as sad as it is, I want to stay here. _

_I love you guys, _

_Dave_

By the time I finished the thin paper I had been writing on was wet with tears and my eyes were constantly blurry. I have no idea if it even ended up legible.

Then I had to write Kurt's. That was hard. Real hard. I don't know how I did it. I had to tell him somehow that he was the reason, but that it wasn't his fault really, and that he shouldn't be guilty. Here's what I think my feeble attempt turned into.

_Kurt,_

_God. I don't even know what to say. I guess you probably want to know why I'm writing you a suicide note out of all the people I could write to. Well, I love you. I've been in love with you for a while. But I want you to know that when I kissed you I wasn't in love with you. Sure, I had had many a fantasy about your ass and my… you know, I'm getting off topic. I fell in love with you sometime around Prom, you know, when you forgave me so completely after all the shit I put you through… you were just a perfectly kind person and so forgiving. Who wouldn't fall in love with you?_

_I sound like such a girl. I just really do love you, and, well, I did this for you. Not _because_ of you, not really, so don't feel guilty. I did it so that you could be happy. You and Blaine belong together. I know you do. As much as I hate it, you two do. And I don't want to get in the way of you being happy with him, so, ergo, I killed myself. It doesn't sound that sane or anything, but it makes sense if you think about it. _

_Please don't be sad. I mean, of course you can be sad, we're friends and all, just don't like get depressed or no shit. God, I'm really not saying this right. I did it so you would be happy, so you know, be happy. Please? I've made sure that the guys won't bother you after I'm gone, since I can't be bodyguard for you anymore, and you'll be able to be with Blaine without me getting in the way anymore. _

_So be happy. For me. _

_Love David Karofsky_

So yeah, that was the three letters, the last things I wrote in my living existence. Pretty shit huh? Anyway, after that I killed myself. No real big shebang. I got into bed, in my most comfortable pj's and took an entire bottle of Nembutal. I had set an alarm for 4 am, so if it didn't work I could take more. Fool proof plan. I remember blacking out. I remember just feeling like I was going to sleep. And I remember smiling as I died.

Then I woke up. That was some bullshit. I opened my eyes, and it was light out and I was pissed as _shit _because I knew mom and dad would be back soon and I would need to wait another two weeks before I got another chance and I would need to hide the notes, and… well, then I heard sobbing. I sat up in my bed and I looked over to where the sound was coming from.

And let me tell you, there is _nothing _creepier than seeing your own corpse lying on a bed next to you. And I mean _nothing. _

I saw my own body, looking all big and peaceful, and yeah, I admit it, I screamed. Like a little girl. And there was my mom, crying her eyes out next to the body, my body, and my dad was talking to some police officers. I was an idiot for a little while. I tried to hit my mom, or make my dad notice me, to tell them I wasn't dead. But, obviously that wouldn't work, because I _was. _But it's not an easy thing to accept you know.

After that I pretty much just stayed up in my room, curled up in a little ball, for about the next two weeks. I watched as people took my body away. I listened to my dad telling the neighbours and my friends and the paper over the phone. I saw my mom come into the room for a few mornings to wake me up, before remembering and breaking down again.

I tried to sleep for those parts, before figuring out that I couldn't. I could close my eyes and block out all noise, but no sleep for the ghost boy.

So yeah, now you're all caught up. Really, my funerals about to begin. I'm going. As stupid as it is, I want to see if Kurt actually came.

I guess dying doesn't derail an obsession. It just gives you more time to obsess.

**Funeral next time, hopefully soon. **

**Please review. I got some for the last chapter which was amazing and I thank you so much. I replied to them all (I think) and I'm glad you're liking the story. **

**Lots of Love,**

**Mae**


	3. Funeral

**Hey guys!**

**I've been having trouble writing in present tense because it doesn't happen very often. **

**But I wrote this eventually. **

**Thank you for all the reviews. I got so many for the last chapter.**

**Chapter song is Gravity by Sara Bareilles. I may actually reuse that at some stage, but it works for this chapter. **

**I own nothing. **

My clothes are normal. Now, this may sound like an odd observation, but I don't understand. I mean, I died in my pyjamas, yet somehow for the past two weeks I've been wearing jeans, a t-shirt and high tops. I knew the outfit of course, they weren't just random. The t-shirt was a favourite, one I had gotten at an All American Rejects concert eons ago. It was a little thin and a little too small, and it had always clung to my chest more so than I wanted it to. The jeans were the same, comfortable but a little old and worn with holes in a few slightly revealing places. I wouldn't wear them anywhere, but at home they were kind of go to.

You may be wondering why I'm talking about this. Well, I really want to change these clothes right now. So far I've loved being able to just not have to change clothes or get undressed or anything, but I'm at a funeral for Christ's sake! True, the me that's actually corporeal is well dressed, but he's in a coffin. No one can see him. But I'm standing in a cemetery, surrounded by people all dressed head to two in nice black clothes and I'm wearing jeans. It's just not right.

Anyway, my funeral. It's, well, nothing special so far. Just our pastor blessing my spirit or something I wasn't listening to and general sounds of crying. Kurt's here. So's Az. I guess that's good. And I can't ask for much more than that. Az doesn't hate me and Kurt mustn't either, 'cause he's here, so that's all good you know?

I haven't actually seen Kurt. I don't even know if I want to. What if he's crying? Or worse, what if he brought Blaine? Actually, no, crying would be worse. I know he's there mainly because I heard him. He's the only boy I know who has a voice in that register and it's pretty distinctive. Hell, I'm deluding myself. I know I am. Even if he had the most run of the mill monotonous voice I would be able to identify it. I'd spent enough time following him around and getting tiny bits of his conversations to know it in a crowd. Not that he's been making much conversation, but that's irrelevant.

I guess I have to see him though. I mean, I asked him to come, it's the least I can do to see him. Not that he would know either way, but I'll feel weird if I don't see him. So I'm going to walk around to the other side of my coffin to look. Yep. Right now.

I don't think my legs enjoy listening to my brain, 'cause I just keep standing here. Not moving. Okay, fuck this. This may possibly be the last time I see him and I'm not going to stand here like a pussy and not at least look. I mean, he might be okay. He might not be too sad. I smile slightly and force myself to walk around (okay, directly through) the crowd of people to be on the other side of the coffin as to see all of my guests. And I see him.

He's standing on the left, right next to my family and Az. He looks like he belongs there, you know? Like, he's one of the most important people that could be there, with my best friend and my parents. Anyway, he looks gorgeous. I mean, he always looks gorgeous, but he looks like an angel today. He has this perfect porcelain skin that I've probably mentioned before and his all black suit makes it ten times paler, almost glowing in the sun. He also has on the hat with a little bit of tulle over his face like a widow might. Probably for effect. I laugh to myself. Only Kurt would think of dramatic effect at a funeral.

I can't really see his face through the little veil, but I can tell he's crying. I can see his lithe form convulsing slightly with each sob and I can hear the soft sniffles over the talking of the pastor. I long to go over and hold him, to comfort him, but I know I can't. I could try I suppose, but I can't even touch him, so what would be the point. I laugh again, but it doesn't even have a trace of humour this time round.

As I laugh I see Kurt's head shoot up suddenly. He looks around jerkily in my direction before shaking his head. For a second I think he might have heard me, but obviously not. I mean, that's impossible. Right…?

Okay, I need to stop thinking about the impossible and get back on track. I survey the crowd for anyone I actually care about. It's a hard thing to find. Most of them are guys off the football or hockey teams, guys who had tormented me for being big and hairy and who had never given a shit about me. I don't even know why they bothered to show up. Guilt maybe? There was also a few people from Kurt's Glee Club which I thought was odd, but I hadn't been hating them recently so… it sort of makes sense. Santana was there too. She's in Glee, but I think she deserves her own mention.

Santana was my beard last year. And I was hers. She approached me wanting to be Prom Queen to make this girl like her and, knowing my secret, threatened me to be her beard. I wasn't upset about it, because one of the things she said we could do together was getting Kurt to come back to McKinley. Anyway, after we "broke up" at the end of junior year we stayed friends. We were both in the closet and afraid of the world, and hopelessly in love with someone who didn't seem to want to be with us. It was nice to talk to someone who knew what you were going through.

I saw the way she looked at my coffin, like she was disappointed in me. I hadn't told her that I was going to do it, and I knew that probably pissed her off. She liked knowing everything about everyone, including me. But she was probably also annoyed that I had given up. We had discussed suicide before, but we both saw it as a cowards approach and promised to help each other stay afloat.

So I guess it makes sense that she would be a little disappointed.

Anyway, there isn't really anyone else I care very much about. A few people from school and a couple of estranged relatives, no one make a special comment on. So, my gaze travels back to Kurt and Az. They're standing directly next to each other, neither seeming put off by the proximity. That makes me smile. Maybe Az will be okay with looking after Kurt.

The funeral went off without a hitch until about 2 minutes before they started to lower me, well you know, corporeal me, down into the ground. Kurt completely collapsed downwards onto his knees, his body wracking violently with tears, so bad it made me want to cry, even though I couldn't actually do that in my current state. I walked forward out of need to comfort him walking almost halfway to him before remembering that that would be useless. As Kurt sobs on the ground a few people go up to comfort him, but Az shoos them all away. I want to hit the bastard! He's not looking after Kurt at all! He's probably enjoying seeing the boy in pain and…

Oh.

As I clench my fists in anger I miss the way Az kneels down next to Kurt's lithe body. The dark boy places a huge hand on Kurt's shoulder, dwarfing the pale body in his enormity. My fists release as Kurt burries his covered face into the chest of the large boy. I urge Azimio to comfort him (out-loud because I'm a fucking idiot) and, though probably not because of me, after a brief hesitation, Az wraps his meaty arms around Kurt, rocking him back and forth slowly.

He's saying something, and though I can't hear him, I assume it must be comforting because a moment or two later they stand up and Kurt is wiping his eyes with a small smile on his face. He stays leaning into Az's huge body for the rest of the service, and Azimio's discomfort only seems mild at the most. I really want to go over and hug my best friend. He's actually doing what I asked of him. I had hoped, but I never actually expected him to.

As the service drew to a close I follow Kurt and his father, who must have been standing somewhere unseeable during the service, back to their car making sure that Kurt gets there okay. It may sound creepy, but I really just want to make sure. Thing is, then I proceed to follow them home, so the car thing probably sounds like nothing to you.

Kurt goes down to his room for an early bedtime and I refuse my body its impulse to follow him down to his bedroom. I'm not a total creeper. I'm not going to watch him change or sleep or anything. So, I leave his house, walking directly through his front door, and go to start walking home. Or, you know, what used to be my home. But I stop when I see a moving shape in the tree above me. It looks like a person, but it's almost 6 o'clock and there's no one else around. Would any sane person let their child play in a tree this late without watching?

Then the figure drops down from the tree, harshly rustling the leaves and landing merely a foot from me in a crouch.

"Evening David. Nice to finally meet you."

**Okay, cliffy sort of. Will hopefully update soon. **

**Please review!**

**Lots of Love, **

**Mae**


	4. Charli

**Okay guys, just letting you know, updates may be scarce for this story for a while. I currently have another WIP which is drawing close to its conclusion, and I'm also at the end of my school year, so I have very little spare time.**

**Thank you guys for all the amazing reviews. **

**I own nothing. **

"Evening David. Nice to finally meet you."

Right in front of me is this girl, actually she's more of a woman. She's probably mid thirties, despite her obvious agility. But my confusion of her age is more because she cannot be taller than 5" 2'. But as she faces me I can see the wrinkles on her face and the slight greying at the roots of her ragged red hair.

Now, as I finish taking in her appearance I realise that I'm probably focussing on the whole entirely wrong thing. Cos, I kind of think I should be wondering on, you know, HOW FUCK SHE CAN SEE ME!

I turn my head around briefly to both sides, before pointing to myself. I mean, I have no idea who else she can be talking to, but it can't be me, can it?

"Yes you. Who else would I be talking to?"

Her voice is irritating. I think she has a southern accent, but I'm not very well versed in that sort of thing. Whatever it is it's awfully grating and it _really _pushes my buttons. I take in her clothes, as much as I can in the fading light. They're fairly plain, white jeans and a green tee, with what appear to be bright purple high-tops on her feet. The hair is obviously dyed, and it's not a good dye job.

"How can you see me? People can't see me."

"Alive people Davey. Alive people can't see you."

The woman starts walking back the way I came from and I rush to follow after her. I don't know who she is, but she might have answers for me. I grab her arm and spin her back to face me.

"So wait, you're like me? You're a ghost too?"

The woman gives a more than slightly condescending smile.

"In a way. I'm Charli. You can think of me as your guardian angel."

Okay that makes…. Wait a minute…

"Did you say angel?"

Is this tiny little woman with the bad dye job and bright purple shoes actually an angel? Where's the wings and the flowy white dress and all that shit? She must have noticed my scrutiny because she let out a hard laugh. I never a laugh could be so painful.

"Well I did but I'm not. I don't even know if they exist or not. But I'm the closest thing you gonna get." The woman, Charli, took a deep breath before continuing. "Look, I'll explain it all in a minute, but let's get back to your place. It's cold out here."

Well that rules out the ghost option. I'm completely immune to temperature. So, if she's a ghost too she would be as well. Well, that's how my mind works. I follow her almost blindly back to my home, or what used to be my home at least, wondering for probably too short a time how she knows where I live. Lived. God, I ain't getting used to this.

Soon enough we're in my room, and I'm sitting on my bed like a nervous teen with his first girl up to his room. Which, I _guess _I actually am…

"So anyway, shut up cause I'm gonna tell you the shit I know."

I almost point out that I hadn't been speaking to begin with, but her stern look makes me afraid I'm not going to have a dick if I do. So I keep my mouth shut.

"Now. You are a ghost. Or, that's the closest equivalent anyway. If you're still here, which you are, it means something went wrong when you were supposed to move on."

I want to ask a question, you know, move on to where? But I don't know if it's a good idea or not.

"So, my job is to help you fix that. Then you can leave this stupid ass plane of existence. Odds are you didn't do something that has to be done for this world not to fall into chaos or some shit. I don't know the details."

Wait, what? If Charli doesn't know what's going on how is she my guardian angel? And then as if reading my mind (who knows, maybe she can), she answers my question.

"I'm a ghost just like you. Well, sort of. I _was _just like you. But when I was able to move on, I chose not to. Some of us can stay here for as long as we want to, so that we can help pathetic little kids like you stop wandering around like lost little puppies and get out of here."

I don't like Charli.

* * *

><p>It's a few days after I met Charli. I don't see her very much. She has this ability to just show up randomly and irritate me. However, as much as I dislike having her around, I do like having <em>someone <em>to talk to. And she's actually pretty smart about all of this. She taught me how to change outfits, which I actually don't do very much, no one could see me anyway, so who cares? She showed me how to move corporeal objects and how to phase through walls. I assume there is some way to teleport or something, either that or she just knows how to run really fast just to move around and bug me.

Anyway, it's a school day, which means I'm pretty bored. On weekends I like to hang around at parks and watch the kids have fun or at the pool and watch the cute guys walk around shirt less. Or, and this is my favourite, though it's probably the creepiest, I like going to where ever Kurt is.

He hasn't been doing very well. I don't get why, but he's been completely messed up. I've been watching him during the weekends and at night, but all I've seen is him crying in bed. I want to help, but no matter what I've been taught it's still not possible for anyone alive to see me.

Maybe I should go over and wait for him. Charli will probably scream at me about it later, she always does. Always spurts some shit about me needing to hurry up and piss off this planet, and calls me a psycho stalker or something like that. But I don't care. I need to see him. I love him. I just want to take care of him.

I glance around my room just in case Charli is hanging around. Not that I would be able to tell, considering her habit of popping out of nowhere. After I can tell that it's empty I leave, phasing out through the closed door so that I don't accidentally open it to a living person. I walked down to Kurt's house, all the while watching everything that Charli could pop out from under, or behind. She has a habit of that too.

When I finally get there it's only one o'clock, and Kurt won't be back from school yet. But I don't really care; I don't mind just hanging out in his room waiting for him. So I go down to his basement bedroom, a path I have become way too familiar with frankly, and move to sit and wait for him to come home. But then I hear a soft sobbing and fuck if I don't know that voice.

I walk over to Kurt's bed, shit I feel like such a creeper, and can see a small moving form under the covers. I almost call out before realising how stupid that would be. The form moves to sit up and fuck it's him. Kurt. I haven't been this close to him since, well, the only time I've been this close to him was when I kissed him that one time. And I'm close enough to now, if I could. Our noses are practically touching, or they would be if I wanted to touch him. Which I do, but I'm not supposed to or something. I don't know.

He reaches forward to grab a tissue, which happened to be sort of, you know, _in _my leg. Which would be bad, but I'm incorporeal so who cares. Maybe I'll be able to feel him go through me. That would be really cool.

But he doesn't. Go through me I mean. He reaches for the tissue, but for a second his hand hits my leg, and his eyes widen before he pulls back. I'm so fucking confused. I have no idea what's going on. Shit, where's Charli? I actually want to see her. Kurt shouldn't be able to touch me. Not at all. If I wanted to I could touch him, but he would barely feel it. It would just be a cool breeze sort of feeling to him.

I'm starting to question that all Charli's knowledge is top notch.

Kurt reaches up and clutches at his head, mumbling something about going away. I'm scared. I'm terrified. And so I do what I always do when I'm scared.

I run.

**I know it's not the best chapter so far, but I'm trying not to start the plot too much too soon, because I like this story and don't really want it to end. **

**Now, please review guys! I don't care how long or how short, just review. Anon or not. **

**Lots of Love,**

**Mae**


	5. Touch

**Yeah, I know this took a while. I've had the first half written for weeks, but I couldn't figure out what to do for the second. **

**I actually like this chapter, even if it is a bit manic. I hope you enjoy it!**

**Thank you for the ever wonderful reviews. **

**I own nothing. **

"Charli! Where are you?"

My voice echoes in my old bedroom, now filled with boxes, and my question is left unanswered.

"Oh come on you psychotic bitch! I know you're here!"

"Well with sweet talk like that how can I resist?"

Sometimes she talks so drily that I think it may actually cause Lima to become a desert. No kidding. I spin to see her less than a foot behind me, mouth set in an annoyed pout. I never understand why she hates me calling for her so much. I mean, besides help me, all she can ever do is float around Lima or whatever it is an annoying 'guardian angel' does in her spare time.

"I need to ask you something, and you can't question me." She nods, cocking her head at me in question. "Okay, well, uh." Articulation Dave! Words! "Is there _any _situation where an alive human could see, touch or hear us? Any human in general I mean." My words come out in a quick rush, and I kind of doubt Charli can understand most of them.

"Um, yeah. Sort of." She takes a deep breath. "Okay. There are… situations, where a human who is still alive can in certain ways be in contact with us. Call 'em what you want, Mediums, Ghost Whisperers, Psychics, whatever. It's rare and I've actually never seen it. My version of what I am to you told me 'bout it. Some can see us, some can hear us, some just know we're there. It's not a science or nothing, but as far as I'm aware, most of it happens with people who were close to a Ghost."

Now, what the hell do I do with that information? I tell Charli to piss off and walk back to Kurt's house. I go down to his room, phasing through the door down to the basement, and find him sitting on his bed, dressed but still very dishevelled.

"Kurt? Can-can you hear me?"

God I feel like such an idiot. He doesn't even look at me. But… his hands are shaking. It's not a nervous habit of his (god, I'm such a fucking stalker that I know this) so why the hell is he shaking? His lips are moving to, just enough for me to see, little more than vibrating, quickly repeating a pattern of words over and over.

Shit. I didn't think of this. What did he say before I left last time? Uh…. Wait!

_Go away. _

He had said it like it had happened before… oh fuck. What if, what if he thinks he's insane? I would. He hears someone who's dead… yep. He would think he's insane. I've been here every day. I've been sitting here watching him and talking to myself, what must have he have heard? What did he think? No wonder he's been so shaken up. Of course it wasn't because he was upset about me…

I need to, god. What the hell can _I _do? If I talk to him, he'll get worse right? Think Karofsky. What do I do?

Fuck it.

"Kurt? Please Kurt, if you can hear me, I need to know. You're not crazy I promise."

"No. Please. Please go away. I don't want this." It's a whisper and I barely hear it, but it's there. "Not again, please. Go away."

I'm going to cry. I know it. He looks so fucking broken. My perfect angel, and he's broken. I need to fix him. I walk slowly towards his quivering form and place a hand softly on his arm. There's a strong shock of electricity that shoots up through my arm and he spins to face me, eyes wide in shock.

"D-Dave? You're really here?"

I yank my hand back quickly and the electricity disappears. Kurt stands, almost face to face with me, looking around quickly.

"Dave? I saw you, I know it. Don't pretend you don't exist. Please. Please, I need to not be crazy."

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

_My brain's on a loop. _

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

He saw me. He god damn _saw _me. I didn't think… I didn't know…

Charli's going to kill me.

* * *

><p>It takes two hours for Kurt to stop waiting for me to appear again. I don't move an inch in case I run into him and I don't say a word, I even stop breathing. I mean, technically I don't need to breathe ever, but it's still nice to do occasionally. Anyway, he leaves eventually.<p>

"I mean, I understand wanting to bone that ass, I do, but I don't get the infatuation."

Of fucking course. Charli's directly behind me, those cold eyes staring holes into me when I turn to face her. I send a steely glare back at her. I don't really mind when she shoots shit at me, I'm used to that, but she insults Kurt a lot more than I would like.

"Should have known when you asked me it would have something to do with the twink. You're worse than a lovesick tweeny bopper."

Yep. You can see why I love Charli so much.

"Anyway, if you knew this could happen, why the fuck didn't you not touch him?"

"Because he was freaking out! I didn't know he'd actually see me!"

"Well what did you think would-"

"Dave?"

Shit.

"Get lost Charli." She rolls her eyes at me and disappears, leaving a soft glow in place of where she stood for a moment.

I look over to the stairs as Kurt walks down again, very obviously looking around for me again. Seriously, does his father not know how to keep him in one spot? Kurt's eyes continually scan past where I'm standing, not even slightly aware that I'm standing where I am.

I don't know what to do. I want so badly to show myself to him. I know how, I mean, last time all I had to do was touch him. I could…

No. I can't. Hell, I should left him alone the first time he heard me laugh at my funeral. I'm fucking _dead. _I can't let him see me. It would ruin his life. People would think he was crazy… he would think he was crazy. I can't put him through that. I love him.

I sigh and sit down on his bed. Was I this conflicting when I was alive?

"Dave? Please. I-I know you're here. I just want to see you. I know you probably don't want me to see you. But, I… I used to hear mom too. I never saw her, but she was here." His voice starts to get teary and his eyes become watery. "Please don't leave too."

_Don't do it. Don't do it. Don't do it. Don't do it. Don't do it. Don't do it. Don't do it. _

With my hand suddenly on his bare forearm (how the fuck did that happen) Kurt looks up, his huge eyes glistening with tears as he looks at me with disbelief. His arms quickly wrap unexpectedly around my waist and he buries his face in my chest.

"I can't believe you're back."

I wrap my arms around his shoulders and hold him close to me as he sobs, silently noting that this is the closest I've ever been to the boy I love, and place a kiss on the top of his head.

"I can't believe I'm back either."

**Whataya think? I know the ending's kind of weird, but I'll continue soon and hopefully make it a little better.**

**Please review!**

**I love you all. **

**Mae**


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